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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114244">The Missing Head</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15'>soprano_buddy15</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Season 2, spoilers for episode 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:33:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,082</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kjartan learns who's head is missing from the posts outside of Dunholm.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Missing Head</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Surprise I'm back!</p><p>So.... I've been really enjoying finding narratives from other characters, and I always wondered how Kjartan would react to finding out that Sihtric had defected. </p><p>I hope that you enjoy, and constructive comments are always welcome! Just don't be rude, because nobody wants that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walls of Dunholm were strong. Kjartan liked that. </p><p>He knew it was probably unwise to think that the walls were impenetrable, but he felt safe, secure, and confident sitting in the throne in the large hall. He was a Lord, and the surrounding Saxon villages knew it. </p><p>He was sitting in his throne now, head held high as he watched his men get drunk on ale. As content as they all were, and as confident as Kjartan feels in his walls, a twinge of worry tugged in his mind. </p><p>Uhtred Ragnarson. </p><p>He felt the fury rise up in him and he clenched his fist. Even though this boy had not been the one to physically lift the blade and take his son’s eye, it was his word that caused him to be banished from his land. </p><p>How dare this boy still be alive? Threaten his son yet again? </p><p>He knew that he would show Uhtred Ragnarson no mercy when Tekil brought him to him, and he grinned when he imagined the slave dragged towards him, blood from his missing eye dripping down his face.</p><p>“My Lord!”</p><p>Kjartan pushed the slave girl who was sitting on his lap off of him as Fiske barged into the hall. “What?” He growled. Fiske hurriedly glanced around the hall, and Kjartan could see that he was worried. </p><p>“My Lord, there are… heads.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>Fiske just stammered, fear alight in his eyes as Kjartan pushed himself out of the chair and into the courtyard. Sven jumped up from his seat in the corner as Fiske scurried after him.</p><p>Taking the steps two at a time, Kjartan and Sven reached the ramparts overlooking the front gates. “Fiske!” He called below. “You will go out and identify the heads.”</p><p>The gates creaked open and Fiske slid out nervously. “Perhaps they are just poor souls,” Sven muttered to Kjartan, but even he sounded wary. </p><p>“It is one of ours, lord.” Fiske called. “The flesh is rotten, but I know it, I’m sure.” Kjartan clenched his jaw, and a feeling of unease filled him.</p><p>“Go to the others!” Sven shouted beside him.</p><p>“It seems they are all men we know, my lord!”</p><p>His unease grew. “Tekil! Is he amongst them?” The man had been with him for years, always succeeding in the missions he had ordered him to do. “Go on!” The panic was rising in him. </p><p>As Fiske moved, Kjartan scanned the posts. “There are only seven heads,” he muttered to Sven before raising his voice. “There are only seven heads, who’s missing?”</p><p>Fiske stopped at the last one, and Kjartan knew what he was going to say before he called back. “The last one is Tekil!”</p><p>Kjartan growled as he saw Fiske turn hurriedly. A rider on a black horse charged out from the tree line and promptly removed Fiske’s head from his shoulders.</p><p>“It’s him,” Sven gasped. “It’s the Dead Horseman.”</p><p>“You believe you deceive me?” The Horseman called out, and Kjartan narrowed his eyes. “I know who you are.” He called back, sure of it. “I know exactly who you are, Uhtred Ragnarson!”</p><p>“I’ll have your soul, Kjartan!” Uhtred yelled back at him before turning his prancing horse back towards the tree line. </p><p>“Face me!” Kjartan shouted at his retreating figure. “Face me like a man!” But his cries were meaningless as he galloped away. </p><p>“He will be coming,” Sven said, and Kjartan scoffed at how obvious an observation his son had made. “But no one has breached Dunholm.”</p><p>“Yes, Sven,” he bit out. “But where is the eighth head?”</p><p>As Sven stuttered, unable to answer, Kjartan called out to another one of his men sitting in the courtyard below. “You!” He thundered. “You will go and you will tell me who is missing!” Visibly gulping, the warrior scrambled to exit the gates. </p><p>Kjartan watched as he examined each head, his eyes furrowed. “Well?”</p><p>The warrior reached the spot where Fiske lay dead and Tekil’s head was posted. Kjartan noticed the tense set of the warriors shoulders. The warrior knew who was missing, and Kjartan was sure we was not going to like it.</p><p>“Come back immediately!” Sven yelled to him, trying to have some sense of command. Kjartan turned and went down the steps, meeting the young warrior as he reentered the gates. “You’d better have an answer for me,” he muttered as he got in close to the young man’s face.</p><p>“My Lord,” he whispered. “Sihtric is missing.”</p><p>Kjartan drew back, his eyes wide. “Leave us,” he said, and the warrior scrambled away.</p><p>“Father?” Sven came up to him. “Who is it?”</p><p>Kjartan knew that he had made a mistake. The bastard had never been worth his time, and the slave girl had been useless once she whelped the boy. Sihtric had been a thorn in his side since the girl had birthed him and begged him to let her care for him. “It is Sihtric,” he whispered.</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“SIHTRIC!” Kjartan yelled, and the warriors standing on the ramparts went silent. “The bastard has betrayed me.”</p><p>Sven shifted anxiously as Sihtric’s name was mentioned, but Kjartan hardly noticed him. All he could think about was how this runt of a boy managed to survive. He had hardly even passed muster when Kjartan grudgingly allowed him to practice sword-skills. He was too weak, to used to being pushed around by Sven. </p><p>He supposed that Sihtric’s betrayal should not have come as much of a shock to him as it did. He could hardly recall the slave girls name, but he knew that she was dead because of his orders. But that did not matter. He had given her mercy in letting her keep the boy and she had tried to kill him. </p><p>No, it was not even that, Kjartan thought. The bastard should never have had a chance to live in the first place. </p><p>“Prepare for battle,” he said to Sven, who nodded and walked off to inform the other men.</p><p>As the men ran around him to find their weapons, Kjartan ground his teeth as he imagined what he would do to the bastard when they attacked. He knew the bastard would come. As was apparent by the fact that he had managed to survive both his life in Dunholm and an attack on Uhtred Ragnarson, the bastard was a survivor. </p><p>But that would end. By Thor, Kjartan would not be plagued by the boy any longer. </p><p>The bastard would pay for his betrayal.</p>
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